Out here, running with the herd,Life and death, It's a daily thing.Beauty passes in a season -- The long-legged lovely one Becomes the encumbered mare, Hindered by love of young,Unable to run wild in the sunset.

Sex has its terrifying side;The steaming pain of birth, And the duty to care for some Repulsive hairless thing that Only cries and shits and speaks nothing. No wonder babies are killed though I'm not condoning that sort of thing, It's just your mother's voice That says it's cute, how lovely, Oh, it needs a change.

Out here with the herdIt's a question of dominance,And who has the means to make it stick.Losers can cry, but "to him that hath,"more is given, and to thatPoor sucker that's got not,There's nothin' due --You can take it to the bank.

If you're weak, throw in with someone strong; if you're stupid, Follow someone with brains; if you're A coward, serve someone brave. Then at least when night falls There'll be some campfire where You are welcome, some pot where You can stick your spoon.

I have lost all my friends.I am alone and friendless in the world.I bet you're delighted to meet someone in the same boat as yourself.This world is like a bubble popping.I can't believe in it for one second.Stand back! I think I'm going to disbelieve!

(Heavy metal anthem-style) He's a man Who gestures to heaven Standing straight and tall The fire rains down, Down from heaven, Turning earth into hell. He's a man Who rolls two sevens And makes a hash of the land He's got so many dollars And a five-sided building All right there in his hand. He's a man Mean as his father made him Proud as his mother is, A whole mess of psycho behavior In a Western suit He's a man And he'll send his men to Hell He's a man Did you hear the tales they tell Did you hear the tolling bell? Were those portents in the sky? Are you not afraid to die? The only unasked question: Why? He's a man We should try to understand He's got power in his hand He must rule the savage land.

Make ink from bloodstone, spurious one,Write long, lavish manuscripts upon the linen of yourheart,Empowering yourself with mythic words,Requiring witness of your own two eyes,Seated in the garden of the sun,Among the trees of gold,Where jeweled birds twitter,And spirals of light wander lazily forth from the maze atthe heart of the sun,Setting golden flakes upon the feathers and the trees,Flakes that balance delicately till they dissolveInto the very air.

Call your eyes to witness, then,The deed that has been done,Upon the linen parchment,Words of arterial brightness,Written in the garden of the sun.

Now I sit outside again,the Void lights twinkling,While the faithful worship inside,I'm thinking of the distances, the spaceBetween the stars.With bowed head I cannot seethe splendor of the Night,With lips so busy with prayer,I cannot listen to the chilly reminderof the darkness, the brisk night windThat whips along my cheek.No rebellion contra orthodoxyfeeds my alienation,Only need for silenceand meditation. May I onwardendlessly pursue the unerringTrajectory of the True.

Homage to the LamaStepping like a mountain goat along the rocky defile,Garbed in clouds and staringInto the naked face of KuntuzangpoUntil the single eye of the sunInhabits the throne at the center of the Mind,One is one with all the teachersAnd reverences them with each thought and breath.

When the knife can penetrate the stone, When breath melts glacial ice, When the libertine’s love quenches the fire of hate Turning an execution to a celebration of wisdom, Then the proofs of the learned are confounded, The outrage of the nobles is silenced, And the king’s knee bends with every other.

Intrepidly declaring that which disturbs the pious,Shattering brittle icons with a mere notion, Spurning lucre and the company of the powerful, Buying resentment with pure intention, Such a guru needs no apologists Or lengthy homages, No coterie of sycophants to praise his lineage, No train of well-wishers and hangers-on.

At home anywhere, even among pimps and whores, Friendly with the despised, Despised by the powerful who are made irrelevant, Such a lama is worthy of Saraha’s mantle. Such a lama do I praise.

I was born down in TexasSilver spoon in my noseI tasted sweet senoritasHey you know how it goes

Then I went into politicsMan, I sure got it rightMade lots of moneyMade even more friendsIt was a fool's delight

At last I came to the castleWith the doors open wideAnd I concluded without much ado,Heaven's safe, but the profit's in Hell

Then I opened my BibleAnd it showed me the wayThere was voting on the Senate FloorI thought I heard them say

Welcome to the Hotel BabyloniaSuch an ancient place (such an ancient place)There'll be no disgracePlenty of guns in the Hotel BabyloniaYou can find terrorists hereAny time of year

Alberto is so helpfulHe has explained so clearHow it is that I'm invincibleHow the story ends

How they give me the powerHow we do what we willOne voted to stay my knifeThe others voted to kill

So I dialed up the Congress"We need money and time"They said take everything you needWe're drinking Jack Abramoff's wineAnd I hear Achmed Chalabi callingFrom far awayThere's so much money herethat we can makeCome and we can play

We're living it up at the Hotel BabyloniaSuch an ancient place (such an ancient place)There'll be no disgracePlenty of guns in the Hotel BabyloniaYou can find terrorists hereAny time of year

Baghdad's one big blisterFilled with murder and crimeAnd I've spent everything the world will earnUntil the end of time

And in the prison courtyardWe strung up old SaddamBut he died like an iron manand on YOU TUBE he lives on

Now I try to rememberHow I got to this placeI'm naked as a jaybirdFacing some disgrace

"Relax," says MalikiWe are glad to deceiveYou'll be here another twenty yearsDon't even try to leave

We're living it up at the Hotel BabyloniaSuch an ancient place (such an ancient place)There'll be no disgracePlenty of guns in the Hotel BabyloniaYou can find terrorists hereAny time of year